Mr Monk and the Curse of the Werewolf
by Dragon of the lost world
Summary: When a body turns up dead seven times over, All signs point to his being a werewolf. Can monk get over his scorn of the supernatural in order to discover the identity of the killer?
1. Chapter 1: The First Chapter

Mr. Monk and the Curse of the Werewolf

It was a dark and stormy night in India.

In America, it was light and sunny, but that would change. After about six hours the sun set and the moon rose. A month ago, the moon was full. Tonight, the moon is full again. A person is sitting on a rooftop. That person looks at his or her watch (okay he's a him,) and waits for his adversary.

A rope is strung by the oak tree, waiting.

A gun is loaded with gleaming bullets, waiting to be fired.

A knife is sharpened, glinting in the moonlight, waiting to be plunged.

A ring of torches connect to a pentacle of turpentine, waiting to be lit.

A vial of poison sits at the center, waiting to be used.

A club, named Arget, waits for a head to smash.

The ground lies below, waiting.

A man drags his kill up to the top of the roof, unknowing that he is domed to die. Clouds drift over the moon. The man, clutching his gun speaks. "Hello Romulus, it's been a while."

"You? I thought surely that you of all people would have shown sympathy, would have shown mercy." The man with his kill steps backward, and the first man lights a match. The torches burst into flame, fire consuming the torches and the one called Romulus.

"No! Please, you can't do this!" Romulus shouts.

"Watch me," says the first. He draws a knife from its sheath, and cocks the gun. The knife and the bullet meet in Romulus's heart. The club comes down with sickening precision. Romulus looks up at his killer, in a wordless plea for mercy. He receives only a vial of cyanide, shoved down his throat. A scream of agony is silenced by a rope that squeezes around his neck. After waiting for 12 seconds, the first man cuts the rope, and Romulus hits the ground, very dead.

Note: Sorry this was so short, but any longer and you would know far to much about the case. Sorry!


	2. Chapter 2: The Anoying Theme song

It's a jungle out there,

Disorder and confusion everywhere.

No one seems to care,

But I do

Hey!

Who's in charge here?

It's a jungle out there,

Poison in the very air we breathe,

Do you know what's in the water that you drink?

Well I do, and it's a-mazing.

People think I'm crazy,

'cause I worry all the time,

if you paid attention you'd be worried to,

better pay attention or this world we love so much

might

just

kill you.

I could be wrong now,

But I don't think so,

'cause it's a jungle out there.

It's a jungle out there.

For Adrian Monk, autumn is the worst time in the world. All those leaves falling in such unnatural patterns, and having to sweep them up is murder. Luckily, Sharona is a very patient woman. The process is simple. Monk watches, Sharona rakes.

"You missed one." Monk pointed at a leaf. "By the way, who's your new boy friend?"

"None of your business. Every time I get a boyfriend, you Monkify him, and I'm without a boy friend again. And I really like this one Adrian."

"He's probably a murder then. Or married. There's another one."

"Adrian, what happened to the rake I got you so we could both do this?"

"I used it. Only it got…nature…all over it, and I had to throw it out. We have to get rid of this one when you finish."

Sharona glared at him. There might have been a murder-by-rake if her cell phone had not gone off at that moment, as it always does.

"Adrian-The-42-year-old-who's-afraid-of-leaves Monk's Office. Yeah. Okay. Huh? Captain, a man is alive or dead, there's no degree of death!"

Monk watched, questioningly as Sharona hung up.

"It's a job. A man's turned up 'Very Dead.'"

"Very Dead? Sharona, a man is either alive or dead, there's no degree of death!" Monk said, feeling a strange case of de ja vu.

* * *

"Name: Romulus Samander, He's from some big family in Romania, aparently he's here on vacation." Captain Leland Stottlemeyer said, with an air of anoyance at being stumped before having even told the victim's family.

"How did he die?" Monk asked, to which Stottlemeyer replied,

"He was Shot, Stabbed, Hung, Clubed, Poisoned, Burned, and Dropped from a high place. Monk, ... We're lost, and i would realy apriciate some pointers here. First -"

"AH! OH my god, What is that!" Monk shouted, indicating the carcas of the sheep on the roof.

"That was Samander's dinner. We found saliva on it with a DNA match to Samander's. We think he might have been eating it on the roofwhen the killer snuck up behind him and killed him with the club."

"No," Monk said. "What happed was

A/N: Oooh! a cliffhanger! review if you want more!


	3. Chapter 3: Crime scene investigations

Disclaimer: I don't own monk. sorry i keep forgetting to say that.

"–. The killer was waiting for him, he set everything up, and waited for this guy to climb up with that…that…thing."

"Monk, how can you possibly know that from here?" Stottlemeyer asked, gesturing at the building 20 feet away.

"There's a dent in the chimney, like someone was leaning against it, and the rope is tied to the tree, not lying on the ground somewhere." Monk replied, still looking in revulsion at the horrible thing on the roof.

"Chambers, check the chimney for a dent, will you? And send over the witness, Mr, uh, Mr, Mr. My-Name-Is-Unpronounceable while you're at it." Chambers ambled over to a man dressed in a fur coat, said something to him, and went over to check the Chimney.

The man in the Fur Coat sauntered over to Monk and Stottlemeyer, looking at them haughtily. He opened his mouth, revealing teeth that made monk feel nauseated, and asked, "Will this take long, Mr. Stottleminer? I have and appointment with the governor's wife imminently."

Stottlemeyer glared at him, and then asked him to recount what he saw.

"I was about to fall asleep in my limousine when I glanced out the window. There was a man killing another one on the roof. At the time I thought nothing of it, what do peasants matter to the cream of society? When I woke up, however I decided to report it to the police while I waited for a servant to bring me my breakfast. May I return to my appointments now Mr. Strutlemayor?"

As the man turned to leave, Monk interjected "Wait, just a minute, Mr, Mr,"

"Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist. What is your question?"

"Do you own a boat, Sir?" Monk asked.

Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist replied arrogantly, "Three. Why?"

"Just wondering." Monk replied. As Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist walked away, Monk checked his shoulders and began to Monkify the crime scene. A glint of metal caught his eye.

"Captain, found the shell casing." Monk reported, picking it up. "Lane and Westing, nine-millimeter."

"Thanks Monk." The captain said, extending his hand. With one hand Monk gave it to him, with the other he snapped and said "Wipe. Wipe. Sharona what-" Monk turned to her, only to find she wasn't there.

A/N: sorry, I miscalculated. In this story, Monk is 46, not 42. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4: Several Unhappy Women

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated, I insert lame excuse>

Disclaimer: Sorry, I keep forgetting to say that I barely own anything here. I didn't even come up with the insanely long name in the previous chapter. By the way, Dale the Wale will be showing up soon.

"Wipe. Wipe. Sharona what-" Monk turned to her, only to find she wasn't there.

"Sharona? Sharona?" Monk looked around in panic. The obscure cases were hard enough with Sharona, without her it would be next to impossible. The world seemed to be spiraling out of control, growing dark without her light to shine the way. Monk was panicking now, as the world grew hollow. The planet was shattering, bursting into a great conflagration of chaos and—

"Monk? Over there." Stottlemeyer said, pointing to a bench to the north of the dead guy. Sharona was sitting there head in her hands, as if trying to control the chaos Monk had felt a moment ago. She did not look up when her employer sat down beside her, nor when he offered a moist towlet to stem her steady flow of tears.

"What's wrong?" Monk asked, reading himself on the chance that she became angry.

"Adrian," Sharona started, before breaking into tears again. When she regained control of herself, she stated, "Romulus was my boyfriend. The moment you learn about him, he turns out to be dead. Why, Adrian? Why is it that the moment I find a piece of joy, you have to ruin it? Well? Tell me!"

Monk looked at her in astonishment. He had never before seen her this angry, and had no idea what to do. He decided to take the easy way out and said, "Sharona, I don't know. But I need you now, so lets-"

"No! No, I'm not going to just do as you say. I quit. No, I'll stay with you, 'cause this way I'll have a better chance of getting a crack at Romulus's murderer, but after that, I'm leaving. Now go find the killer. Now!"

Monk looked at her quizzically for a moment then sighed, and walked over to the site of the murder. Before he reached it, however, a car pulled up, and, tearing through the doors as if life depended on it, came a young woman, perhaps 17, running towards the Crime Scene. Just behind her, with hair just as red as hers, though not as long by any means, came a man. He was shouting at her, shouting things recognizable when they were spoken in English, as 'to late' 'in a better place' and 'can't help him now.' Monk did not understand the language that they were speaking, but it sounded vaguely familiar.

The man had caught up with the woman now, and was restraining her with difficulty. During a pause in her frantic screeching, he said, "Lillian, mmmmmmm do anything mmmmmmm now. He's mmmmmmm, and you can't change that. Stop, before you mmmmmmm yourself."

"Mmmm! Mm mmmmmmm my brother!"

"I know, Lillian. I know." Lillian seemed to slump then. She fell to the ground, where her comrade attempted to comfort her. The touching moment was shattered by Chambers, who was telling them "This is a crime scene, not a grief councilor's office. Leave!"

Lillian and her companion glared at him. To prevent trouble, Monk said to the uncouth police officer, "They're family, Chambers. They can be here momentarily."

A/N: Again apologizing for not updating fast enough. By the way, If you review with the correct way Monk figured out how the 3 people were family, you get a small part in the story line. Hair raising question, isn't it?


End file.
